


emmenez-moi

by cinciarella



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: M/M, one last mcfamily fic before both stoff and fernando leave
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 06:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16696927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinciarella/pseuds/cinciarella
Summary: Stoffel works in the bike shop of Fernando and Jenson, who have practically adopted him. On the evening of Fernando and Jenson’s wedding, Stoffel meets a stranger at the party who immediately attracts him. Of course, he forgets to ask his name.





	emmenez-moi

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally planned for the big bang fic thingy, but with graduating, finding a job and the death of a close family member, life got in the way. I still really wanted to write and publish this though, in honor of Stoffel who blessed us these past two years with his existence. I already have everything planned out, I just have to write it, so a couple more chapters should follow soon (i promise!).
> 
> in case you want to enhance the atmosphere, the song mentioned in the story is this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0J2fxjqaCTo

Stoffel sat behind the desk, checking out the paper work on some recent orders, when the door to the shop opened, immediately followed by the bell signaling a client had arrived. The man walking into the shop was tall, broad-shouldered and carrying a big square box. Stoffel had never seen him before, which was unusual, as he had been working in ‘Fernando and Jenson’s bike shop’ for years. Stoffel figured it was yet another thing for Fernando and Jenson’s wedding, Fernando had been going absolutely crazy lately. Stoffel had even stumbled upon him making a ‘my wedding’ Pinterest board, upon which Fernando had made him swear to never tell any other living soul. Sometimes Stoffel remembered the look on his face and he started giggling, seemingly unprompted.

“Fernando Alonso?” The delivery guy asked, putting the box on the reception desk and smoothing down his clothes.

“I’m not Fernando, but I can sign for him,” Stoffel replied politely, offering him a small smile. The guy smiled back but explained that he needed Fernando’s signature. Stoffel walked over to the door leading to the private quarters of the shop, where Fernando was most likely updating his Pinterest board. 

“Fernandooooo!” Stoffel called into the open doorframe and quicker than he expected, he heard footsteps dashing down the stairs and a visibly excited Fernando appeared behind the desk in no time. With his usual flair, he signed the deliverer’s document and walked him to the door, chatting to him about the weather. Stoffel went back to his paperwork until Fernando excitedly grabbed some scissors to open the box.

“Ah Stoffel, don’t you wanna know what brilliant idea I had?” 

“Please, brighten my day with your genius again,” Stoffel replied sarcastically, but well-meaning. Fernando rolled his eyes, cutting through the tape holding the box together, the scissors making a high shrieking sound. 

"Do you remember this? Or is this from before your time?" Fernando asked, holding up a disposable camera.

"I know you're old, but I'm not _that_ young," Stoffel replied, grabbing another camera out of the box. 

"Yes, you are, you are like a baby," Fernando said, ruffling through Stoffel's hair. 

"I'm not", Stoffel retorted softly, as if he knew Fernando would never change his mind anyway. He was like a son to him and no matter his age, he'd always be young and small in Fernando's eyes. 

"Anyway," Stoffel changed the course of the conversation, "are you afraid of a disposable camera drought? Why did you buy so many?"

"Ah, you really are so young. Have you never seen Friends?" Fernando said, turning around to face the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Ah Jenson," Fernando said, lifting up a disposable camera to show him, "you know what these are for?" 

Jenson smiled at Fernando and rubbed his back before winking at Stoffel. When Fernando wasn't around, they'd both have a glass of wine and laugh at Fernando's heightened craziness in this time of wedding preparations, secretly calling him a bridezilla. If he would've known, he would've made them eat the cameras. 

"They are for the wedding, no?" Jenson replied. Everything lately was for the wedding, so that was a rather safe guess.

"Yes," Fernando exclaimed in desperation, clearly exasperated by being the only one with common sense in the house, "we place them on the tables at the evening party so everybody can make photos and we'll have lovely memories." Fernando smiled, pleased with his own genius. 

"You do know that we're just gonna end up with 50 pictures of Kimi's dick right?" Jenson replied. Stoffel giggled and could see the light in Fernando's eyes go out. He knew Jenson was right and he absolutely hated when he made an oversight.

"I have told Kimi already," Fernando sighed, "that he really needs to behave." The depth of his sigh revealed that he knew his efforts were in vain. Kimi was a special case, in every day life he was reserved, soft spoken and wearing either a neutral expression or a soft, mischievous smile. At a party, surrounded by friends and most importantly alcohol, that mischievous fraction took over his whole being. Stoffel knew, he had accompanied him, Seb, Fernando and Jenson to a karaoke bar once. He didn't remember much of the night, but he remembered Kimi, somehow half naked on the stage, singing Sex Bomb with a bottle of vodka in his hand, and poor Seb, his cheeks scarlet, hiding his face behind a napkin. 

"Good luck with that, mate," Jenson replied gleefully. He wiped his hands on the apron he was wearing and announced that lunch was ready. Stoffel went to hang the "closed" sign in front of the glass shop door before he followed them upstairs. 

Lunch was spent discussing the latest preparations for the wedding, a topic that had been dominating their shared meals now the date was fast approaching. Less than a week before the big day that his makeshift parents would be officially proclaimed husband and husband. Stoffel looked at them, Fernando putting a spoonful of Jenson's fresh pasta in his mouth, Jenson looking at him with a caring gaze, rubbing his shoulder trying to alleviate Fernando from his accumulating wedding stress, and he smiled, feeling truly at home, feeling genuinely happy for the unique love they shared. He wondered when he'd meet somebody and experience the same.

***

"Everything under control?"

The sudden sound startled Stoffel. He gripped the coffee cup he was holding tighter and looked up to see Sebastian in front of him, dressed in a dark blue suit that fit him rather well. Most probably it was Italian made, Stoffel knew about Seb's italophile tendencies. 

"Yeah," Stoffel replied, "I'm just a bit tired." He'd slept on the couch - lending his room to Jenson because Fernando thought it inappropriate for them to spend the night before the wedding in the same bed, never mind that they had for years already. Turns out their couch wasn't the most comfortable one.

"I can tell, what more needs to be done?" Sebastian asked. Stoffel was grateful for this small sign of kindness, getting everybody to the chapel for the ceremony was proving to be more cumbersome than he'd anticipated. 

"I'm waiting for the Porsche to arrive that will take Fernando and Mark to the chapel, and then the rest of us can take Jenson's car." Fernando wanted an expensive car to get to the chapel, because bla bla, it was his big day or whatever. Sebastian nodded, a faint smile on his lips.

"We're all glad Fernando will turn normal again soon," Seb said, patting Stoffel on the shoulder, "Well kind of normal," he smiled fully now. Stoffel giggled and nodded before emptying the coffee cup and putting it on the counter. 

"Oh, I shouldn't forget the rings," he exclaimed suddenly. That was his priority, he was going to bring the rings to the altar. It had touched him deeply when Fernando had asked him to do that for them. Mark was Fernando's witness, Seb was Jenson's, as Stoffel had expected them to be. But he got his designated role as well, carrying the symbols of their love and bond, of their trust and dedication, of the good days and the bad, the challenges and simple shared joys of life. 

Stoffel smiled on the way to the chapel, holding the small velvet covered box in his hand, suddenly envigorated by a certain positivy - an optimism for life. A simple belief that love, peace, joy and serenity was in store of every single one of us turned all the days ahead much more digestible. He looked forward to the day - and the days after this one, too. He smiled, looking outside of the window, seeing the landscape fly by, trees, glowing hills, houses, people washing their cars, birds in the sky - the stark ordinariness of every day life contrasted with the special day he was experiencing.

***

The sound of strings filled the room. Followed by a sweet, melancholy voice. _Somos novios_. Stoffel looked at Fernando, his eyes closed, Jenson's hand wrapped around his waist, their feet shuffling along the floor. _Pues los dos sentimos mutuo amor profundo_ Fernando's hips were swaying softly to the rhythm of the song - played by a live band of course, he wouldn't have settled for less.

_Y con eso ya ganamos lo mas grande de este mundo_ Stoffel was enthranced by the tenderness that emanated from them. Looking at them dancing seemed as if he was seeing something that he shouldn't see, something that should be kept in a dimly lit room, between two lovers. 

_Procuramos el momento mas obscuro para hablarnos, para darnos el ms dulce de los besos_ Stoffel looked at the way Jenson's arm curled around Fernando, in no way possessive, only caring and protective; how he looked at him and smiled softly. Stoffel sipped on his champagne. He scanned the room. There was no sound but the music, building up to a dramatic apotheosis - the rest was quiet. It seemed like a moment he could hold in his hand and break with his palm if he made a fist. Fragile, but oh so real. 

The song ended - and with it the magic. More upbeat flamenco guitars started playing and the dancefloor was filled with people eager to swing their legs, to enjoy the moment, to move their bodies and celebrate the day - or simply to forget tomorrow. Others swarmed to the bar, in the mood for another cocktail or a refreshing beer. Stoffel chitchatted with Kimi, who was downing vodka shots at an alarming rate. 

"You know, maybe I should propose too," he confessed. Stoffel really didn't know what to say. Except that he was afraid that Fernando's bridezilla tendencies would be triggered by that again. And boy, this celebration was nice, but he'd be happy to return to simple, ordinary life again.

Kimi downed another shot and walked off into the distance. Stoffel shrugged, ordered an old-fashioned and sipped on it while surveying the room. A guy dressed in a light grey suit came to stand next to him at the bar. The crisp structure of his suit, fitting his body perfectly, contrasted with the chaos of his light brown hair that stood wild on his head. Stoffel noticed his sharp blue eyes. He ordered a whisky and turned around.

"Not a party animal?" he asked Stoffel, with a smile that highlighted his round cheeks and sharper jaw line. His eyes creased up in a slightly mischieveous way. 

"Not really. I like it," he started.

"But you like to drink and take it chill more than dancing?" The stranger offered. Stoffel noticed a french accent and wondered why he was at this wedding reception. 

"Yeah..." Stoffel's words dragged out and he offered a friendly smile to ease the awkwardness. It's not that he was bad at small talk, but something about this boy's appearance and demeanor was taking the words out of his mouth before he could utter them.

"Me too," he said, offering Stoffel more of his disarming smile, "Want to take a walk in the garden?" 

"Sure," Stoffel replied. He couldn't think of a reason not to, so why not? He drank the remainder of his cocktail, the other boy mirroring his action. He put his glass on the bar with a clang and they walked out of the room, into the crisp evening air.

**Author's Note:**

> obligatory mention that none of this real.  
> if you liked it, a kudo or comment would be greatly appreciated!  
> thank you <3
> 
> ps: you can find me on tumblr, i'm curva-parabolica


End file.
